Chapter 1

Thursday afternoon, August 9th {Bob}

It was just a piece of paper, a white looking scrap, blowing across the parking lot as I closed the door of my car and got ready to go into the supermarket. I noticed it only because it was a blur of white movement across my field of vision. To this day I have no idea what possessed me to reach down and pick it up, when a gust of wind brought it to my toes and then died.

The paper lay there staring up at me.

It was a grocery list.

The line across the top caught my eye. It said "Regular Thursday Shopping Trip", as if whoever had written this had "other" shopping trips, and wanted to keep this one separate, for some reason.

I stared at it, bent over. It wasn't like any grocery list I had ever seen before. Maybe that's why I picked it up. Oh, it had the list of things on it, like any grocery list would. But it had extra writing on it too, tiny neat script, and it was the reading of that writing that changed my life.

The script was in flowing, feminine characters, neat, and precise ... easy to read, which suggested that the writer was careful and precise, and paid attention to detail. That someone would take the time to write so clearly, for such a transitory purpose as making a grocery list, told me she had a good mind and knew what she wanted.

Or maybe it was that extra writing that made it obvious she knew what she wanted.

"Ideas to get the attention of a single man" was neatly penned at the top, under the Thursday part, followed by a list. Behind each item, was a description of what she intended to do with the item ... and her single man.

Pizza with meats - to warm him up
Chicken Fried Steak - for in between the times he pleasures me
Sweet wine - to sip together
Olive Oil - for his massage, so I can lick him all over
Fresh Oysters - in case he likes them - also for me
Whipped Cream - to squirt on me, and have him lick it off
Fresh Strawberries - to have him pluck, with his teeth, from my pussy
Chocolate Sauce - for my breasts, and clit
Peanut Butter - for his prick
Black Olives - for me, just in case, after he cums in my mouth
Chocolate Cake with Frosting - to feed each other while we rest
Scented Candles - for ambiance
Lasagna - for our second date

There was a break, and another list. Only two of those items listed, the first two, had any additional information about the woman herself.

Spermacide - you are NOT on the pill, girl!
Topical Anesthetic - it hurts, the first time!
Bath Soap
Blond Hair Coloring Kit
Cheap Cotton Cloths
Napkins
Tampax
Red Licorice
SMALL bag of Ruffles
50# of dog food with additives for joints

Whoever she was, she was organized. Maybe too organized. Still, I was entranced. Such few words, on a scrap of paper, told me a lot about her.

She was a virgin, who was planning on losing that virginity with a stranger. She didn't know if he liked oysters, which meant she hadn't met him yet, or at least hadn't asked him if he liked oysters. She didn't like her current hair color, which seemed odd, because she definitely knew what she wanted out of the first time she had sex. She was young enough to still be menstruating, hence the Tampax, and her hymen was gone, for the same reason. She either knew, or suspected that semen would taste in such a way that she might want to replace that taste, but was obviously willing to taste it.

She was playful. At least she liked to play with food. She was pragmatic. She'd have to clean up during, or after her tryst, and chocolate stains good towels. Cheap cotton cloths could be tossed. She expected pain, but didn't want that to stop her from extended enjoyment. She obviously thought that a topical anesthetic might help with that. Everybody already has bath soap, which suggested she might tease him into the bath or shower with her. A new bar would be needed then. She indulged her own tastes -- that was probably the licorice and potato chips -- but she controlled her desires, which meant she was probably in pretty good shape. And, lastly, she had a dog, probably a big one, or at least one of the working breeds. They need the food with the additives for their hip joints, which she had reminded herself of on the list.

I held the list, and tried to picture her in my mind. I was a single man, and it wasn't at all hard to plug myself in to her list, at least in my mind.

I stuck the paper in my shirt pocket, behind my pocket protector, which was full of pens and pencils. I'm a draftsman. Pocket protectors weren't cool, but then, I wasn't all that cool either. That's probably why I was still a single man, at twenty-eight. I didn't care, though. I'd gotten used to my drab little life. I had my computer games, and a few TV shows I was addicted to, and my own dog, which I was as close to as I probably would be with a human. If I'd have chosen a dog, I'd have gotten a female, but this one chose me, showing up on my porch one day. It would be pretty difficult for a dog to wander into my neighborhood. We have a dog catcher who takes his job way too seriously. That meant somebody had dumped him. I understood why that had happened when I was exposed to some of his personality traits, but we got along okay most of the time. His only embarrassing habit was that he humped everything in sight. He still had his balls, and they worked fine.

I looked for this woman while I did my own shopping, but of course she could have been anybody. Besides, she'd probably dropped the list after she'd done her shopping, and was gone already. Still, I noticed when I passed some of the things on the list. I even bought some strawberries, which I hadn't planned to get. Then I headed for home.

Thursday afternoon, August 9th [Chris]

"Lady, I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I need a keeper."

The look Lady, my Golden Retriever, was giving me left no doubt she was having no trouble believing any such thing.

When you live alone you talk to lots of things, and by the time Dad, who raises and shows dogs, gave Lady to me for my birthday three years ago, I was giving the toaster advice on his relationship with the new electric can opener and asking him what he thought about my split ends. Of course, Lady doesn't make up for not having a man around, and all I get from her is a female perspective, but you work with what you have.

Besides, she knows more about me than anyone else in my life ... including those things no woman would tell a soul. With all the things she knows, she could blackmail me for the rest of my days ... if, of course, she could talk ... not to mention be inclined to be a vengeful bitch, which she isn't. Her disposition is so sweet she seems to always be smiling, which is just what she was doing from her favorite position ... the old cloth covered chair I'd found in Grandma's attic and placed in the corner of my kitchen just for her.

She winked at me and continued to survey the pile of pens, papers, spiral notebooks, tissues, loose change, individually wrapped peppermint candy, hand lotions, and a million other things that not more than ten minutes ago had been in the depths of my purse. It wasn't any ordinary purse. It was a denim bag my older sister Lacey made for me last Christmas. There were pockets of all sorts inside the deep, wide bag, which resembled a small suitcase. I tended to carry my whole life around with me wherever I went. If I couldn't leave home without it, it went inside my bag.

"You would think I'd be able to find one little grocery list in all that muck, wouldn't you?" I asked her as I glared at the stuff on the island in the center of my kitchen.

Swishing her tail, she glanced over at the grocery bags still loaded with canned goods on the counter by the pantry door. Items I'd just carried into the house. I usually shop on Thursdays, for myself. Then, on Friday evenings, I take Grandma Sparks (Mom's mother) shopping. That way I can pick up anything I forgot, and pay attention to her needs. Today was different, though. She called and was all excited because they were running a big sale. She'd told me all about the sale on Monday when she'd heard about it from her friend Nellie Maples, whose daughter is married to the manager of the supermarket. When there's a big sale I don't argue with her. I just make my list, like usual, and know that it will take longer, and that I'll always end up buying way more than I need because Grandma keeps saying, "You never know when you might have unexpected guests or when the market might crash."

In all the excitement of the afternoon, (Grandma losing her glasses, Grandma losing her shopping list, Grandma arguing with a lady over a bag of marshmallows ... they all looked the same to me, but Grandma wanted that particular bag and she'd touched it first) I somehow managed to lose the special list I'd made out just for this trip.

"I DID get some of the things on it," I explained to my dog. "But I lost the list and I know I didn't get everything."

The list I was referring to was one I'd made after I read a book I found at the yard sale. It cost me a dime and was titled 101 Ways to Catch a Man and 25 Ways to Keep Him Hooked for Life. I looked at the dog.

"I should have taken my special book with me to the store, huh?"

Lady whimpered and placed her paws over her eyes. I giggled.

"Okay. Okay. So the idea of roller skating in the park didn't go so well. I still say if it hadn't been for that crazy poodle running out in front of me and causing me to land in the pond, I would have met the man destined to be my Prince Charming. Is it my fault the dreamy hunk who rescued me was with his wife?"

She barked once.

"There's just got to be at least one single toad out there waiting to be kissed and rescued from his life of dreary existence. And I probably missed mine today all because I didn't have my list and wasn't in the aisles at the right time to bump into him."

Lady whined.

"I know. But I couldn't shop without my list. I couldn't remember the order I placed the items in and according to the book, it's important to go by the order. It's all in the timing. And speaking of time, it's time for me to change clothes so we can go for our walk."

Thursday evening, August 9th {Bob}

When I got home and took the pocket protector out of my shirt pocket, the list fluttered to the floor. Bandit, my dog, was on it in a heartbeat, and I had to pry it out of his mouth.